Darragh Will Never Be Forgotten

(JJ Hurley)

The Late Darragh King ( Bernard Lavery)

Carrigaline and the greater community remain numb at the untimely passing of Darragh King, affectionately known as the Kinger.

The sense of disbelief at the news has left a heaviness in our hearts, even for those of us who didn’t know him personally.

My only contact was the odd acknowledgement as he walked off the field, wearing his beloved blue and gold and knowing he had left it all on the pitch. You knew, reporting on a match, that the ‘Kinger’ was going to give you full entertainment for the hour.

Like all corner backs, and he was gifted in both hurling and football, he was a workhorse who possessed the steel that all corner backs have. And yes, he had that mischievous twinkle in his eye that all those gifted defenders are blessed with.

But Carrigaline needed him more than he needed them.

 The dark days of relegation from the Senior Football Division, a dogfight with a Carbery outfit in Bandon in a relegation battle, were tough times. 

Some suggested that Carrigaline were listless, rudderless and lost.

I doubt that those in the club ever believed that, but people like Michael Meaney and the arrival of Eddie Murphy knew they had leaders in their ranks, and one of them was the Kinger.

 It was roll-up-your-sleeves time, dig in boys and put some ‘FFing’ pride in the jersey—I doubt Darragh had to be told.

Carrigaline had in its ranks the men up front to lend the all-important firepower—Brian Kelleher comes to mind.

 I wonder what Darragh thought of my inclusion of Kelleher in my football team of the year last year?

 I suspect the odd bit of ball-hopping and, having learned of the fun-loving man he was off the pitch.

Players like Kelleher easily earn all the plaudits, as their exploits are recorded on the scoreboard, but King and co. were the workers—it is not so easy for them. 

Often tasked with the difficult job of stemming the tide of the opposition’s attack, it was a job in the faithful year of 2024 that the Kinger did more than adequately in both codes.

My own personal memory of that year was of the Kinger bursting out of defence, ball in hand, and Eddie Murphy hedging alongside him on the line, shouting, ‘Go on Kinger, go on Kinger.’

You see, and it was very evident from the three outstanding eulogies at his funeral—from his brother Tomás (Mossie), teammate Pa Mellet and employer James O’Regan—that was Darragh: someone you could depend on, a fella who was always there for others and never let it be said he didn’t have your back.

I have decided, right or wrongly, not to paraphrase those beautiful memories and descriptions of Darragh’s life, but to reflect on what I saw, which, as I said earlier, was from afar.

I know the GAA community is heartbroken, as witnessed by a minute’s silence at the recent Carrigdhoun Championship draws—you could feel the loss in the room.

But our loss is nothing compared to that of the Carrigaline GAA Club, his teammates and friends. 

But above all, to his parents, Pat and Siobhán, Tomás (Mossie), grandmother Joan, and extended family.

As a community, all we can do is offer our condolences and support, but to this scribe, whenever I see the blue and gold, I’ll think of him.

Darragh may be gone, yes, but his memory will never pass.

Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam.